


St. Patrick's Day

by Holtzmann1998



Series: Being Kates Girlfriend [17]
Category: Kate McKinnon-Fandom, Saturday Night Live
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 12:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10360842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holtzmann1998/pseuds/Holtzmann1998
Summary: You don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day because of something in your past.





	

“Happy St. Patrick's Day!” Kate smiles to you as you stumble out of your room. She gets up and walks over to you.  
“Kate, I love you, but I swear to god if you pinch me this will be your last St. Patrick's Day.” You grumble.   
“Someone's unhappy.” Kate fakes a pout.  
“I don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day.” You reply curtly. “I plan to just spend the day in my room, away from the world. “After I make a phone call.” You add.   
“Who are you calling?”  
“My grandfather.”  
“Why?”  
“Because it's St. Patrick's Day.”  
“Well, change the attitude before you call him. I'm going to work.”  
“He's the reason I have an attitude.” You complain. Kate rolls her eyes and walks out the door. You pick up the house phone and begin to dial your grandfather’s number. Suddenly, Kate pops her head in the door. “Some of the gang is coming over for a St. Patrick's Day party. Please try to be pleasant. Take your meds or something.” She quickly closes the door before you can reply. You call your grandfather.  
“Hello?” An old, slurred voice says on the other end.   
“Hi, Grandpa.”  
“What are you up to?” He asks.  
“Not much, just thought I'd see how you're doing.”  
“It's St. Patrick's Day.” He grumbled.   
“I-I know.”  
“You wouldn't understand what I go through on St. Patrick's Day.”  
“You're right, I wouldn't. But I can be here to listen.”  
“I don't need someone to listen. I need gin and Squirt.”  
“You're still drinking that stuff?”  
“I've been drinking it every day of every year since St. Patrick's Day the year you were born.” You sigh.  
“I know. But, Grandpa, someday you'll have to put down the bottles and see the real world.”   
“That day won't be today, sweetheart.”   
“I know, but think about it.”  
“Maybe. I gotta go.”  
“Tell your wife I said hi.”  
“Will do.” He says. There's a click that tells you he hung up. You trudge back to your room, grab your guitar, and walk to the living room. You open the huge window that leads to the lanai and you sit on the railing and let your feet dangle several stories above the busy city below. You strum a few chords, tune the guitar, and play a few songs. You randomly pluck the strings as you begin to think about the date.  
“God, I was such a bitch to Kate. She doesn't understand what this day means to me though.” You mumble. “I mean, how am I going to tell her that my step-grandma, the woman who I was named after, died on this day and that's why I don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day? She's got this party planned and I can't just depress her like that.” You climb off the edge of the railing and walk into the kitchen, placing the guitar on the counter. You decide to make snacks for Kate's party. You look up recipes and creative snacks on your phone and get to work. By the time Kate gets home, you have a cake decorated to look like a pot of gold, Jell-O shots that look like small cups of beer, and many other festive treats.  
“Someone went all out for not celebrating St. Patrick's Day.” She smiles at you.   
“I thought since I was an ass this morning I'd make it up by making snacks for your party.” You reply as you receive a happy hug from her.   
“That's awesome!” Are you going to be social?”  
“I'll be present and pleasant. Social is something else.” Kate lovingly rolls her eyes. “I'm going to go change into something for the party.”  
“I'll join you, I need to get ready, too.” You notice Kate takes your guitar with her to the bedroom.  
“Please don't play this tonight. You suck at playing.”  
“I've only been playing for a few months! It took me years to be good at the piano!” You say defensively. Kate smiles at you as she sets the purple guitar on your bed. The two of you get ready for the party. Kate puts on a dark green dress with green lipstick. You put on a green tank top, a black jacket, black jeans, and no makeup. You grab a gold chain necklace from the small glass, heart shaped music box on your dresser. ‘Love Me Tender’ plays as you leave it open. Kate quietly hums along. You walk over to Kate and hand her the necklace. “Can you help me with this?”  
“This is beautiful! Where did you get it?” She asks as she gently places it around your neck.  
“It was my step-grandma’s.”  
“The one that hates you?”  
“No, that's my current step-grandma. I had a step grandma before her. She got cancer before I was born. My mom and aunt were both pregnant at the same time and my step grandma swore that one of the babies had to be a girl. A few weeks after that, my aunt learned she was having a boy and my parents learned they were having a girl. My step grandma was thrilled at finally having a granddaughter, her son and my mom’s other sister all had boys.” You pause, still facing away from Kate. “My step grandma had breast cancer. They were able to remove it, but it came back with a vengeance. She died on St. Patrick's Day the year I was born. I never got to meet her. All I have to remember her by is a few pictures, my middle name, and this necklace.” You stand up and walk to the window.   
“Wow, so that's why you never celebrate St. Patrick's Day.” Kate whispers.   
“It's weird, Kate. I never met this woman, but I still miss her as though I did know her. Growing up, I always imagined doing stuff with her even though I didn't really know what she looked like or what she was like. I reflect on my life, and I realize I haven't done anything to make people remember my name. I feel like if I did that, then people, in remembering my name, would also remember her’s.”   
“I understand. I completely understand.” You hear a loud bang as your front door is thrown open. “That would be Leslie.” Kate sighs.   
“Tonight, I'm following my advice to my grandfather. I refuse to dwell on what happened beyond my control. I'm going to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with the love of my life.” You decide. Kate smiles.  
“On a different note, how much alcohol did you put in the snacks?”  
“A lot. But half of them have no alcohol.”   
“Can we just tell everyone that all the snacks have alcohol?”  
“Yes, yes we can. And we're making people crash here or I'm driving them home.”


End file.
